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#2 scaralumi: aftermath

Darkness.

Engulfing him is darkness.

But somehow he isn't terrified. If anything, he feels familiar. The feeling of being abandoned and cutting off strings like an useless doll. And he knows he shouldn't - because he has always been a puppet right at the beginning - feel any kind of pain or grief. And yet, he suffers. His limbs are numb and his mind slowly drifted away. The empty chest is sorely aching even though he doesn't have a heart.

Maybe this is the end, he thinks. It's fine though, relieving, even. He won't have to experience any loss, won't need to prove himself worthy of something that doesn't belong to him or endlessly seeks recognition and acceptance for centuries anymore.

Probably the only regret he still holds until now is that after all the things he's been through, in the end, he's still all alone.

What a satiric way to end.

He closes his eyes, ready to give up on everything.

But suddenly, he heard a sound.

It's a voice. Calling out his name. Disgustingly gentle. Annoyingly soft. Cruelly pulls him back to reality. The darkness around him starts to dissolve, replaced by a warm, blind light.

He's forced to open his eyes.

"What... what the hell are you doing!?"

Scaramouche squeals when the first thing in his sight is the traveler right before him. Embarrassment starts to paint his cheeks as he sees her face inches in front of him and her hand pressing firmly against his forehead. He quickly slaps her hand away and backs himself into the corner of the bed.

Lumine seems surprised. Yet she makes no comment about his insolent action, simply puts her hand down and knits her eyebrows when she identifies the resentment in his violet gaze.

"As you can see, check if you're alive or not."

The question rolls to the tip of his tongue until a strong urge to throw up rushes to his lungs. And then he coughs like crazy as if his body wants to vomit everything inside his stomach. His eyes flutter and his frame breaks down, constantly shivering. He tries his best to open his eyes, only to catch a glimpse of red dripping to the sheets.

Lumine swiftly makes her way to his side, wipes the blood stained his hand and half forcefully pushes him down the bed. Her hand carefully caresses his chest, and soon the burning feeling begins to reduce. She grabs a cup of water lying on the small table next to the bed, one hand sneaking under his nape to gently lift his head, and the other one brings the cup to his mouth. He has no choice but to drink.

"Feeling better?"

She asks, puts down the now empty cup and returns her hand to his chest. He arches his eyebrow in protest but doesn't have enough strength to get up, let alone pushing her off. He tries to open his mouth instead, his voice hoarse, shattered.

"I don't need your pity."

Lumine silently watches Scaramouche as he throws daggers at her. He has hoped she'd react to it negatively, maybe talk back at him, punch him in the face or simply let go of him and leave. Anything so he can get rid of the shame of being looked after by someone he tried to kill countless times in the past. But to his dismay, she doesn't say anything, appears unbothered by the huff.

"Trust me, I wouldn't do something like this if Nahida didn't ask me to."

"Why though? I'm sure she's more capable of doing something like this by herself? Not that I'm not aware this stupid idea came from the God of Wisdom herself."